Betraying Butterflies

Prologue

"Moles are the worst kind of criminals. They don't just commit a crime, but they make you trust them and then break that trust. They're traitors of the highest kind, but those aren't the scariest things about them. The most frightening thing about them is that they can be anywhere, anyone.

They can be your best friend..."

- an excerpt from a lecture about spies

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June 10, 211*

I love this feeling.

Every time I hold a gun and pull its trigger, or throw a knife and watch it hit its target, I feel as if I'm on high. Some people say it's adrenaline, but others say I just imagine it. In reality, I don't care what it is as long as I get the chance to experience this feeling again and again.

It fells great holding the smooth surface of a gun, and I adjust my position on the floor. It's just practice, but I'm savoring every moment of it. I peer into the telescope, and a few seconds later, I hear the unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

Target hit.

It's moments like this that I'm proud to be me. I don't know what I would do if I was part of an everyday family. It seems like I was born to do this.

"Hey, the Boss wants to see you." I hear a familiar voice, and with a glance behind me, I see my best friend. Her reddish hair is tossed into her usual ponytail, and her clothes are her typical ones.

Disassembling the gun, I say, "Another mission?"

"Maybe." She gives me a smug smile, as if she knows something I don't. In this case, it might be true. "But I wouldn't say it's your usual ones."

"What do you mean?"

The smirk is still on her face. "A little suspense won't hurt you."

"Oh really?"

She starts to leave, and I follow suit, with the disassembled gun in my bag. "You really won't tell me?"

"My lips are sealed." She shrugs. "Besides, the Boss will tell you soon."

She turns to the right, but I walk in a straight direction, heading for the Boss's office. It takes me just a minute before the familiar wooden door is in my view.

I knock twice and turn the doorknob. "Hey, Uncle. What's up?"

I've known the Boss all my life. He's my father's brother, after all. When my parents died in a so-called accident eleven years ago, he took me under his wing and taught me all the tricks I know.

"I have a job for you." My uncle is already fifty, yet it doesn't show. He's still strong, agile, and young-looking. I guess that's part of the reason why he's the leader of the organisation.

Sitting down, I say, "What is it?"

He slides a folder across the table to me. "Covert Operations?"

"Don't tell me you don't know what covert means," he says with one eyebrow raised.

I look at him, and I know that confusion is evident on my face. "Of course I know, Uncle. But are you saying that you want me to do some spying?"

"Yes, you'd be great at it."

I shake my head. I've never done any spying before. I'd probably be caught at once. "I'll fail."

"You won't. All you have to do is get hired, climb up the ranks, and continue feeding us information," he says. "You're smart, fast, and can adapt easily. You'll be a natural."

I bite my lip. All my life I thought that my job consisted of sniping, planting bombs, and doing occasional overt missions. Being a spy never entered my mind.

"What if I get caught?"

He sighs. "You won't get caught that easily. You may not have noticed it, but your training focused more on covert stuff."

I think back to my training. I remember the bug planting classes, the strange old man teaching me how to break codes, and the wardrobe I have that consists of clothes that range from a lowly beggar's to something the President's daughter might wear.

He continues, "Besides, you need to. It's an absolute must. I won't say more, but everything you need to know is in that folder."

I guess he's right. It's just that I've never thought that the organisation I belong to actually employed spies. With a sigh, I give him my answer.

"I'll do it."

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Author's Note

Thanks for reading! Please vote and comment if you like this chapter.

Poll: Do you read author's notes? If you do, do you like them to be at the start or the end? Why do you read a/ns? Comment your answers!

By the way, should I change the title? Any title ideas?

~fictionisnotreality